


Mirror, Mirror

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 01:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13847538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: S1 Emma smacking some sense into S4+ Emma and eh Regina is there too :D for the prompting prompt prompts prompt thing. Asked by delirious-comfort on tumblr. It was lated edited for a preference with S1 Emma and Wedding!Emma.





	Mirror, Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> A/N I thought about it for some time; how to make s1 Emma interact with s6 Emma and Regina. I decided on settling with this idea; I’m forever fearing to not have make the right decision but I liked the dialogue between them all at the end. 
> 
> Set in: The same day of the wedding with some details changed in order to keep the whole idea possible. The biggest one would be no Dark Fairy to speak of.

 

Tink’s eyes shone in that way that made Emma think how similar the woman in front of her and her Disney counterpart were. The almost mischievous smile that hung from the other blonde’s lips made the savior swallow as she turned her gaze from her to the tall, body-sized mirror the fairy had brought up with her.

Raising a hand and almost touching the surface of the mirror, Emma narrowed her eyes at the sight of the lime-colored glow parts of the mirror displayed; the color she had learnt to associate with faeric magic. Looking downwards and noticing the small particles of fairy dust that seemed to be covering the mirror’s frame, she turned towards Tink once again just as the other woman kept on twisting the edge of the loose blouse she wore, almost jumping on the balls of her feet as she did so.

“A mirror.” The sentence came out almost like a question and Emma sighed inwardly at the tone of her voice; clipped, short. She felt on edge and as she breathed in she stopped herself from growling at the feeling of the bodice of the dress biting on her chest. The white fabric itched on her neck and wrists and Emma had the almost compulsion to tell the woman in front of her why, how, she had considered a good idea to give her what Tink had dubbed as her wedding gift just before the ceremony. Ceremony she felt approaching her as an accelerating train.

“Not just any mirror.” Tink replied with a flourish of her right hand, signaling the trail of fairy dust. “A magic one! I needed some help from Zelena to get the spell right but I think we both managed to get it to work.”

The name of the red-head made Emma’s instinct raise its head. Albeit she trusted the woman as much as Regina said she did, the former Empress of Oz was still someone that Emma found powerful as mischievous in ways that made her weary.  Her doubts must have been obvious on her face because Tink smiled softly, swatting the worry away with a move of her hands, jumping closer to Emma and pointing at the reflective side of the surface, her fingers almost grazing it.

“You can look into it; see things you have lost or want to search for. It’s similar to what the genie did for Regina but slightly different. I thought you may like it.”

The last sentence was more subdued and Emma frowned at it as Tink took a step backwards; her reflection disappearing altogether from the mirror’s reflection in where now only Emma could see herself; the complicated and tight bun, the almost doll-like make up; the starkly white dress.

“I’ll go upstairs and see if your mother needs any help.” Tink said and Emma nodded absentmindedly, her mind momentarily halted as she took on her reflection, at the way her whole frame seemed unnaturally tensioned; muscles and joints about to break.

She knew she was nervous; had been ever since she had told Killian yes but, until now, she hadn’t seen how much and, for a second, she wondered if the whole mirror thing had been but a joke from Tinker side.  The sound of the door opening behind her, the room she had been brought up by the blonde momentarily filling itself with the voices of the ones reading the last bit of the ceremony upstairs, making her look at her back; at the retreating form of the fairy who had been sent by Blue since _“every royal marriage needs to have a fairy present.”_

The term royal had been on itself claustrophobic but Emma had merely smiled at her mother’s fairy and accepted the offer with a small nod, the same one she directed at herself as she turned towards the mirror once again, the sensation of worry that had been a constant for too many weeks now tightening as the gaze that returned hers was a very different one.

The reflection was the same; same dress, same bun, same posture, but the eyes told a very different story from the ones she had gotten used -resigned? - to see on the mirror every other day.

A younger version; a less tired one, returned her stare with one of her own; much more incisive, much less quiet.

And, when she opened her mouth Emma didn’t even feel surprised.

“So that is what you want. To marry him.” Her voice was the same that Emma could hear whenever she spoke but had an edge there; determination seeping through in a way Emma hadn’t felt in what suddenly seemed years. The shoulders of the mirrored version straightened, her hands falling from her lap where she had had them to her sides. It was a minute detail but enough for Emma -the real one she repeated herself as she stared at the woman at the other side of the mirror- to taste an ash-like flavor on the back of her mouth.

She considered on blaming her tiredness; the fact that every turn she took seemed to be filled with ghosts and magic and loss and curses. Still, the look of a gaze that she felt lost was enough to make her dizzy and, for a moment, she considered to even turn around and close the door of the room.

Zelena, her fear-addled mind said, she should have known.

He reflection was still now, eyes still on her and Emma swallowed, feeling not entirely sure but compelled to answer either way. She didn’t have that much time to begin with, she reasoned, she could simply answer and leave, the ceremony about to start.

However, when she spoke, her voice had a less strong timbre than the one of her reflection, one that kept looking at her dress with something close to disgust.

“Why shouldn’t I want that?” She was vaguely aware that her reflection hadn’t said that but she felt her jaw tightening worryingly, fingers brittle on the way she closed her fists and her magic -almost spent, devoid of the strength she had once considered to be hers, glimmering tiredly on a corner of her chest. She felt spent and despite the clothing the woman in front of her was almost vibrating with unspent energy, the one she wished to suddenly have as she rose her chin, proudly. She was nothing but a magic trick; she thought. Nothing but a joke. “You don’t know anything, you…”

Her voice died down as the reflection took what felt a step towards her, the edges of her figure shimmering and reforming. When before had been cockiness and subdued power now anger could be felt seeping through, reaching for the mirror’s surface in a way the object itself felt like water as Emma, too, took a step towards the reflected figure, heart pumping blood as she swallowed down, trying to find anything, something to say.

The reflection changed, not in form but in appearance, tresses falling and bun disappearing, leaving Emma wanting to rose her hands and almost want to feel the freed hair. Almost.

The next words were cutting, sharp and Emma pressed her lips together, chest heaving as the other version of herself, one of so long ago she almost couldn’t recognize, kept on talking.

“What I know is that you let them tell you what was good for you.” There was no doubt who she was referring to with that _them_ , the way it left her lips telling enough; a snarl following it in a ripple Emma could almost feel against her body as the reflection changed again, dress disappeared, being replaced by a leather jacket and skinny jeans, boots and tank top quickly following suit. “Or I need to believe that I’d end up dressing that and thinking marriage will solve everything?”

The last bit hit Emma like a punch, piercing through her diaphragm and making her feel light headed as she finally stared at what she had lost.

Herself.

Perhaps, a voice whispered softly on the back of her head, there was some truth on Tink’s words. She decided on trying not to listen to it.

“I love him”

It came tremulously, a mix of a sob and a broken tone, one that died down, void of the strength that shook her to the core as the woman in front of her took a step backwards, raising her hands in astonishment.

“No, you don’t, you love her!”

If Emma had been less flustered she would have heard the knock on the door, the way her voice was called by another she knew just as well as the one that still ringed on her ears with a sentence she had tried her best to squash for too long to think about it. Perhaps, the whisper at the back of her mind added, since she had last seen the woman in front of her looking back at her from her own, non-hexed, mirror. Alas, she didn’t hear it and neither did she hear the knob of the door turning ever so slowly, letting the silhouette of a particular brunette into the room.

She, however, fueled perhaps from the whisper at the back of her mind, angry and feeling called out like a child again, looked down into in a way she felt terrified from, answered back to herself, the pull of her muscles on the dress enough to remind her of the painful pinch on her ribs, of the tickling at the nape of her neck where her bun rested. Trapping her in place.

 “What do you know? You are nothing but a mirror.”

The words came out much more raggedly than she wanted and still she felt good as they filled the roof of her mouth, her lungs in where the sparkle of her magic reacted to it; to the rage, to the loss in a way she would have never anticipated.

Her reflection, however, smiled sadly at it, at her words and Emma was brought back to the moment she had spoken to Ashley, righteous and cold, with a blouse on her hands and a stain as the last gift from a very angry former queen.

“I don’t know how much time has already passed for you but I doubt you still don’t love her. Or want her.” The last bit was met with a gasp but Emma didn’t quite hear it, blinded as she was from the other woman’s voice. “You gave up, not only with Regina but with yourself. You let them tell you who you were, who you should be.”

“You are not real.” It escaped her mouth like a murmur, one neither she or the reflected version of herself truly thought. The last wall between herself and the truth. She didn’t need to ask for clarification of which her the other version of herself was talking about. She could see her perfectly clear on her mind’s eye; staring at her, believing in her, trusting her, giving her the memories of a childhood she had decided not to live; giving and giving time and again, staring at her from that blasted city line with something that had made her tremble as a puff of warm air colored her cheeks; glaring at her from a foyer she knew well; asking her why, calling her Miss Swan and breaking her heart.

“Emma?”

The reflection hadn’t moved her lips, finally silent; eyes dark and grave as Emma felt her back stiffening as she realized who had spoken. Turning and facing the brunette’s face she swallowed thickly, not knowing what else to say.

She, Emma thought, looked gorgeous. As she always would be. And for a second she felt her knees wobbling, threatening to drop her as the voice of her reflection rose again, less bitter, less cutting; more tired now.

“So, there she is. Did you ever tell her?”

The question was void; both of them knew that answer and as Emma kept on eyeing Regina the brunette pointed at the mirror, eyes still focused on Emma, on the Emma that hated the dress and felt her very existence shrivel on it.

“It’s about to start; Zelena told me Tink had brought you here… to give you something.”

The upcoming questions fell flat between the two of them as the reflection began to dissipate, turning back to look as Emma’s back, the presence of the other nullifying the spell. The blonde, however, didn’t truly see that, nor felt it, as focused on Regina as she was and, as the brunette let her hand fall, so did Emma’s lower lip; her voice never quite escaping her throat.

“Start?”

Regina stared at her, blush coloring her cheeks and that something that had made Emma think of an unleashed river back at the city limit, with Cruella and Ursula at the other side. An opportunity; a silent one.

“The wedding; Hook was asking for you.”

The sudden rush of her blood on her ears was too much for Emma as the words settled on her stomach, destroying everything her reflection hadn’t already and as Emma felt a wave of nausea wash over her she stumbled forward, her forearms being quickly grasped by Regina’s hands. The brunette’s touch was smoldering, burning Emma’s skin from her very insides but the younger woman didn’t move back; not like she would have normally done. Not like it had become the usual between the two of them.

And as Emma straightened, Regina’s hold never leaving her arms, she stared at the older woman. Knowing that if she walked out of the room the brunette would never mention what she had heard; what the other version of her herself had said. On their relationship there had been far too many moments in where decisions had felt like paths opening, parting in front of them. This time felt like one of those. The last step to take.

Dizzy, she rose her right hand, freeing it from Regina’s grasp and caressing the woman’s face in a far too soft touch; one that made Regina tremble against her fingertips. There was far too much they needed to talk about, Emma suddenly though. There was still too much she needed to ask to both Tink and Zelena. Too much she needed to say to her parents; to herself.

However, in that moment, she chose to take another kind of step.

“I’m going to cancel the wedding.”

And Regina… Regina just nodded, a smile tugging at her lips, chest raising in one single question that died down as soon as Emma finally, moved forward, a far too long second looming between the two of them before Regina closed the distance, magic surging, raising, ricocheting against their ribcages, halting everything else but them.

And the mirror, magic spent, dissolved itself into nothingness.


End file.
